


Things to regret

by cucumber_of_doom



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Angst, Implied Incest, Implied Torture, M/M, Post Reichenbach
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-01-20
Updated: 2013-01-20
Packaged: 2017-11-26 06:10:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,608
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/647427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cucumber_of_doom/pseuds/cucumber_of_doom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Jim shoots himself on the roof of St. Bart's Sebastian feels lost. As he finally makes it home Richard is gone, too. Sebastian needs to get him back.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Things to regret

There were not many things in his life that Sebastian Moran regretted.  
Not the first time he killed a man, which was a rush like no other and he never once stopped to ponder it. It's what you to when you join the army. Killing, fighting, an occasional shag. Then you kill again. Repeat the steps until death or discharge.  
It was the latter for him.  
Going back to civilian life, being without a purpose, left Sebastian damaged and empty. Working for Jim filled the void, and after a while he stopped dreaming of desert and jungle. His new life offered enough danger to drown what he had been.  
What followed in the next few years was a haze blood, violence, and late night coffee runs. Jim initially told him who to shoot, and quickly promoted him to his right-hand man status. He never realised the man actually _trusted_ him before Jim introduced Sebastian to his twin brother. Knowing about Richard, being allowed to _care_ for him (later to love him, but that didn't come overnight) made him feel important. He needed it. This was his life now.  
It was typical that in the end it was Jim who taught him regret, too.

\---

James Moriarty died on June 15th on the rooftop of St. Bart's Hospital while Sebastian's eye was trained on one ex-Army doctor: John Hamish Watson. It took exactly fifty-seven minutes for Sebastian to notice that the plan went horribly wrong and run back to the hospital. By the time he reached the rooftop the blood on the tar had already cooled.  
Sometime between calling the cleaning crew to get rid of the body (kissing Jim goodbye before anyone arrived) and downing most of a bottle of cheap whiskey in one of their offices, he started measuring time in 'Before Jim's Suicide' and 'After Jim's Suicide'. 

\---

It took two hours and twenty-eight minutes for Mycroft Holmes to take Richard Brook into custody.

\---

After three days, fourteen hours and forty-eight minutes Sebastian Moran reached the flat in Mayfair he (had) shared with the twins-- hungover, sleep deprived and desperate to curl around Richard and pretend for a moment that everything was like before. And bloody hell, how was he supposed to tell Richard that Jim was dead?  
But when he stepped through the door the only thing he found was the cat gazing at the tap, clearly dehydrated and half dead. The cat Richard had begged Jim for for months and which he would never leave without making sure someone had fed it. Sebastian cocked the handgun he kept on his person, checked the flat for any signs of an intruder (nothing that couldn't be caused by a bored and hungry tabby), then went back into the kitchen to fill a bowl with water and place it next to the animal's head. He tried Richard's mobile and went straight to the mailbox. He felt numb. With Jim dead and Richard gone (Kidnapped? Also dead? How would he know?) for who knew how long... He glanced up again and threw the water bowl out of the way before the cat could reach it. Instead he made another call on his phone. A vet would know how long the annoying little ball of fur had been left alone. Maybe that would tell him what happened, give him a timeframe to work with. And then, maybe, get Richard back.  
In the evening he knew it was Mycroft Holmes who had taken him. He should have never let that happen in the first place.

\---

Eleven days until he has it narrowed down to three possible locations for Holmes to keep Richard. Richard. Everyone nowadays associated him with the names 'Moriarty' and 'Sherlock Holmes' due to the reckless stunt Jim had pulled.  
Sebastian barely slept, but at least the cat was better. He didn't know how to tell Richard he let both his brother and his cat die on his watch so he had to make sure the moody beast was fine.

\---

Eighteen days and he drove past a secluded building just outside of London. It was so nondescript it nearly _screamed_ 'Government.' Even so, knowing where they keep Richard didn't mean he had a way in, less a way back out. Sebastian lights a cigarette and signals the driver to go on. He only had wanted a glimpse, even if it was idiotic and unnecessary risky. It had been Jim's recklessness that had dragged Richard's name into all that mess in the first place.  
He lit another cigarette while the car pulled away. They should never have used Richard's identity for Jim's game, no matter how handy. It had been a mistake, at least Sebastian knew that now. But going along with all if Jim's insane plans had become a second nature to him over the years and he hadn't dared to object.  
Because Jim had been a sick fuck and Jim had been a genius. Had been, not 'is', because Jim is dead, because Jim had swallowed a bullet and now it was up to him to decide what had to be done. Most dangerous man in London and he only wanted to curl up and die, because he never wanted any of this. The only thing he wanted had been to kneel at Jim's feet and wait for the command to shoot someone important, burn down London, to make Jim a damn sandwich. It had been the same to him and it still was, because none of those things would happen now, because Jim was dead, dead, dead...  
No, he had to think of Richard, because (and he hated that word now, hated reasoning and everything to do with it) Richard was still alive and there was no reason to choose the dead above the living as long as there was the hope of the living still being alive.  
Sebastian took a shaking breath.  
Still work to do.  
(Sorry, boss.)

\---

There were people dying behind the scenes. Important people and unfortunate nobodies alike.  
Sebastian Moran didn't care, because he left that behind the day he first took a life. (A fox at age seven, but it did it for him anyway. The rush of taking a life with nothing more but a twitch of his finger never lost its fascination.)  
Not that it mattered in the end.

\---

Fifty-nine days and there was Richard next to him in the back of one of Jim's cars. His efforts had been for nothing, he couldn't break him out of the secret government prison, but Holmes set Richard free after it became clear that he wasn't the man who had blown up innocent civilians to play games with Holmes' little brother. There would be surveillance of course, Sebastian had no illusions about the reasons Holmes had let him go. It was a trap.  
He glanced over to Richard, paler and thinner than the other man had ever been. The blue sweater was Richard's but the pair of black sweatpants was one Sebastian had never seen before, as were the trainers on his feet.  
The fact that Richard left the building Sebastian had believed him to be in had reached him through one of the informants in Jim's network. He had to remember himself that it was his now. As if he ever wanted any part of Jim's fucking empire. It had been Jim's to play with and Jim's to burn down from the beginning.  
Even if it probably was a trap, Sebastian had called the driver and picked Richard up from a shabby coffee-shop. Richard didn't say a word, simply following him quietly into the car. They would take a vacation, somewhere nice and warm, shake off Holmes' people and make everything better. And then he would make Holmes pay for what he did to Richard.

\---

They didn't go back to the flat after Sebastian picked him up - too risky without knowing who tailed them. Instead he checked them into a hotel in Greenwich. Richard still hadn't said a word, only sat on the edge of the bed and stared into space while Sebastian made some more calls.  
He had never planned on keeping Jim's network alive and working, but it had been too useful in the weeks following the roof (it was easier calling it that) and getting Richard out that it seemed like a waste now to let it crumble. He still needed it, for Richards sake.  
Speaking of Richard...

Sebastian knelt down in front of him, his arms resting on the other's knees.  
“Rich?” he asked quietly, eyes trained on the pale face above. No response. “Please Rich, say something. Anything.”  
Richard didn't even seem to notice him, only continued to stare at some point on the far wall, arms still wrapped around his stomach. At least the shaking had stopped for the moment. Not that this was a real improvement. Richard had never been loud, but also never unresponsive like this.  
Sebastian leaned forward and buried his face in Richards lap.  
“Rich, please. I know you want to go home, but we can't just yet. Wouldn't be safe and you need to be safe. I need you, too. Say something. Tell me that everything will be alright. Because it will. That's what _I_ should tell _you_. I'm not good at this whole feelings... thing. You were always better at comforting someone. No one calmed Jim down as quick as you, all I'm good at at is pissing people off. So you need to talk to me. Tell me what to do. I promise you I'll kill Holmes, if that is what you want, but just give me something to go by. I don't know what else to try to do for you,” he mumbled while breathing in Richards scent, even if it was kind of off. Wrong shower-gel, wrong detergent. “I am lost, Rich.”  
With another painfully slow breath, Sebastian wrapped his arms around Richards legs. There were no words, but when he felt Richard fingers starting to slowly card through his hair, he closed his eyes and tried to pretend. “I'm so lost, Rich.”

\---

He only had a vague idea of what exactly Holmes had done to Richard during the weeks the man had held him. Richard still refused to talk about anything regarding this time in his life and Sebastian was afraid to ask. He knew too many ways one could break a man and with all that time Holmes had... There were places even his mind refused to wander.  
It was evident by the way Richard would flinch at loud noises in a way he hadn't _before_.  
How he couldn't stand to stay alone in a room for more than a few minutes.  
The nightmares that had him screaming and sobbing in the middle of the night.  
How he would space out in the middle of the day, suddenly confused by how the buttons of his shirt worked.  
But the worst was, how he wouldn't ask about Jim or rarely spoke at all. At least he had started to speak again after that first unsettling night.

\---

They stayed in various hotels for the time being, even if Sebastian was sure that he now knew which of the passerby in the streets were paid by Holmes to keep an eye on Richard.  
Sweet, submissive little Richard who used to do everything Jim asked of him, regardless of what it was, simply because he loved the mad genius with the sort of desperate dedication even Sebastian couldn't quite muster.  
However Jim was dead and Richard, however much he may look like his brother, wasn't the criminal mastermind the other twin had been. Sebastian did his best to keep the network alive, but there would have to be changes if it was to continue. He was no Moriarty, regardless of what he had learned from years of watching Jim.  
Sebastian was sure he could still make a living, rent out his sniping skills to the highest bidder and move to a cheaper flat. He'd spend his paychecks on booze and try to forget everything about the last few years, but Richard deserved better. He needed someone to take care of him, to love him and soothe his fears. Not some impersonal room in a mental home. He needed Sebastian to be there for him.

Concentrating on getting Richard back to his old self and keeping the network running helped to keep his own grief at bay. He still dreamed of Jim--of Jim and Rich and how he used to sleep between them, Now there was only one body pressed to his side.

\---

“Jim is dead, isn't he?” Richard finally asked one night, out of nowhere.  
“They showed me how he shot himself. Thought it would bring back my memory, but of course it didn't.  
“When they showed it to me first, I thought he maybe pulled some trick, some way to force Sherlock into killing himself and afterwards walking away without a scratch. He told me he would win in the end. He promised... promised to never leave me alone.”  
It was the most Richard had spoken at once since he had returned, and Sebastian didn't dare to interrupt. It also was the first time he mentioned any details of his captivity.  
“I miss him, Seb. I miss him so much.”  
Sebastian swallowed the lump in his throat.  
“Me too, Rich. Me too.”

It wasn't completely dark in the room - total darkness made Richard anxious. The light from the open bathroom door was enough to make out the smaller man's features. Richard looked as lost as Sebastian had felt since he first noticed something had gone wrong with Jim's big plan. At the same time, he seemed more lucid than at any other point since his return.

“He is not coming back, Rich,” Sebastian whispered while slowly stroking a pale cheek.  
“I thought it, for a moment, that maybe it was still part of the game. That everything was a trick, a blank into the mouth and a bag of blood, but it wasn't. I had my fingers in that fucking hole in his skull. Believe me, it was real.”

Richard leaned into the touch and Sebastian suddenly ached go further. Not that they had never done that, far from it, but now was not the time. He simply continued to talk while moving his hand into Richard's hair.

“They gave me his ash after he was burned. I had no idea what to do, so I simply kept it, but you... knew him longer. What would he have liked? What do you want to do with him now?”

Maybe it was the wrong question, but he had no idea what else to talk about. Jim never stayed out of his mind for long.  
Sebastian kept carding his fingers through Richard's hair. It was longer than it used to be, he really needed a haircut. Maybe he could do it himself if Richard didn't want to go to a barber. It would probably look like crap, but he could manage.  
Luckily Richard started speaking again, clearly insecure but audible.

“We always did like the sea. There's this place with a little cottage at the coast. He took me once, maybe we could go there and scatter the ash. And keep a bit. Does that sound insane? Wanting to keep a bit of him around?”

Sebastian shook his head.  
“Not more insane than anything he would have said.”

“So... pretty much,” Richard answered with a shaky smile, nearly invisible in the dark. It was gone as swiftly as is came.

“I don't mind insane.”

“No, of course you don't.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks to DreammasterLoki for beta reading.


End file.
